The Bearded Iris

A Recalcitrant Wife and Mother Tells All

Tag: Bret Michaels

PetSmart and Bret Michaels team up to skankify your pets.

Just when I thought I had seen everything, I walk into PetSmart this week and see this:

Well, shut my sass hole.

Is there anything this man CAN’T do?

I mean, a musician, spokesperson for the American Diabetes Association, animal lover, AND a businessman? I thought reviving his career with the Rock of Love reality show was pretty damn genius. But the Rock of Love (Tour) Bus edition? Brilliant. And THEN…to compete for and actually WIN Donald Trump’s Celebrity Apprentice (one month after suffering from a brain hemorrhage and a stroke!) Come on. Bret Michaels must be hiding the best brain ever under that signature bandana. 

Bret proved his business chops by winning Apprentice, clearly. And PetSmart is just the partner to get on that Love Bus and ride it into the sunset of ProfitTown, USA…now 25% off, while supplies last.

Because there is obviously a market for dressing your lapdog like a skank. 

Yes that’s right, it’s a lace-up corset tank with pink frilly trim, perfect for showing your little bitch who’s boss.

Or how about the black rocker tank with jeans combo? Crotchless of course:

Well, isn’t that special (said in my best Church Lady impersonation)…two matching embroidered white crosses on the back pockets, flanking her little doggie backdoor! Because nothing reminds me of the suffering my Lord and Savior endured on Golgotha like a pair of distressed ass-less chaps on my faithful canine companion. (That concludes the Church Lady inspired portion of our broadcast.)

But I think my favorite outfit is this one:

Oh yeah baby…nothing says COME like a black leather mini-skirt on your fur-baby. Bitches who dress like that can’t keep their paws off the Beggin’ Strip, if you know what I mean.

Maybe you’re thinking, I’m not into dressing my dog like a groupie. Don’t worry, Bret’s got you covered. His Pets Rock line also includes a variety of rock inspired toys, bowls, collars, leashes, and accessories.

 

Yes, I said accessories. For dogs. Like this.

Because all the cool dogs are wearing doo-rags, don’t you know. Keeps their hair out of their eyes while they ride their motorcycles. Also good for dogs with cornrows.

 

Hey, it takes all kinds. Dress your dog however you want. I’m just excited that our country’s economy is obviously on the upswing. Someday, when anthropologists look back on this period, I want them to see that the economy wasn’t as bleak as everyone said. I want them to note that there was a segment of the population who placed great emphasis on maintaining the rocker image of their four-legged friends.

And also, I want anthropologists to record the awesome power that rockers like Bret Michaels had over people far and wide.

…like this unsuspecting middle aged suburban housewife:

…who was clearly swept away by the sheer magnitude of Bret Michaels’ sex appeal.

What can I say? I’m just grateful I was wearing shorts and not a skirt or I might have whipped off my Hanes Her Way hipsters and flung them at his bandana wrapped head.

Even kids can’t resist the force that is Bret Michaels:

 

I know. Unfortunate height combo. I promise you, Ms. Child Welfare case worker, my son was not purposefully rubbing Bret’s tube sock holder.

Unless he was, and then I’ve got bigger problems.

Oh my God. Is my son a groupie?

Alright, people. Move along. There’s nothing to see here.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to figure out how to attach this new doo-rag to my dog. It’s a much better look for him than the Hanna Andersson pa-jay-jays Grandma sent everyone the Christmas of 2008.

Don’t say it. Just don’t.

I know.

 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…

…it was my week.

So, I’m going to ask Charles Dickens to help me pull it all together for your cultural edification, and also to class things up in huuuuur.

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade. ~Charles Dickens

On Monday I battled a recent ugly relapse into the depths of chronic depression when I accepted a dare by some of my blogging sistahs to showcase my hottest signature booty shaking moves on video. Score: Iris 1, Depression 0.

The response we all received was so incredible that we’ve decided to turn this into a monthly dance challenge. Look for more extreme hawtness and public displays of shamelessness coming to a monitor near you the first week of May. Interested in joining in on the fun? The more the merrier! Please contact Kerry @HouseTalkN to get the deets!

On Tuesday I was whining about how I’ve never been a bridesmaid and begging folks to consider me for future occasions. Several very awesome people including my blog crush Kristin from What She Said came forward and shared that they’ve also never been a bridesmaid. Oh thank GOD I’m not the only friendless loser one! I’m also pretty confident that if I can convince several of my readers to tie the knot, they may actually ask me to stand up for them just because they know I’ll bring da funk, and possibly the pantsuit. Case in point:

@ @ will you be my Maid of Honor? If I ever sucker the poor man into getting hitched? Dont tell @
@babzdockter
Barbara Dockter

 

Oh snap! Sorry about that Melly, but I will cut you if you try to get between me and the Babzster.

Melly was ready to defend her turf though, and that bitch fights DIRTY:

@ @ Plus have you seen Iris dance? Yikes.....
@mellysteg
Mel Stegner

 

Day-yam!

But speaking of funk and pantsuits and female cage fighting, I answered several burning questions about my vintage getup on Wednesday…the same day the Top 25 Funny Moms contest ended, praise Jeeeezus. These vote-whoring contests are a bit of a soul-sucker, ain’t gonna lie. I wish there were an easier, more objective way to dole out the bling, but until someone invents a Funny-O-Meter, we’ll just have to rely on the popular vote. And lucky for me, you guys are über generous with your clicks and willingness to publicly support a hairy foul-mouthed suburban hostage with questionable feminine hygiene. God bless us, every one. 

So yes, I’m more than a little pee-my-pants-excited to announce that I made the final list, and am now officially one of the Top 25 Funny Moms (#5 actually, but who’s counting). Which was a perfect way to end the day and usher in MY 42nd BIRTHDAY on Thursday.

And even though Facebook totally screwed me and decided not to tell you that it was my special day (possibly a user error, but whatever), I still had a great time filled with lots of love and sugary goodness, including a magical trip to my Holy of Holies: Krispy Kreme, where I was given a free birthday doughnut and enough hats for my whole family to celebrate in STYLE!

Poor Bucket Head...he's like "Can we please just eat da doughnuts?"

Special thanks to Chantelle at the Roswell Krispy Kreme who hooked me UP, y’all! On a scale of 1-10 for customer service, that woman deserves an 11 and a pink Cadillac, or golden doughnut, or whatever those Krazy Krispy Kreme Kohorts do to show their appreciation for their best peeps. Thank you Chantelle!

But every rose has it’s thorn. No, that one is not a Charles Dickens original, but a darn close second (I heart you Bret).

That same day, my husband took me out for a birthday lunch at The Olive Garden because he knows I’m a sucker for an all-you-can-eat soup and salad experience. We had the two cutest waiters who were in training and thus very attentive. Seriously, I could not take a sip from my water without the one standing there to replenish my glass. Which makes me feel compelled to apologize to that dear sweet girl for exposing her to my vile language during a rant in which I got very emotional about the Trayvon Martin murder in Florida.

My heart is broken in two for this child’s family. Self defense, my ass. That boy’s only crime was Walking While Black.

photo credit: Martin Family/AP

In the little world in which children have their existence, whosoever brings them up, there is nothing so finely perceived and so finely felt, as injustice. ~Charles Dickens

Marian Wright Edelman wrote an incredible piece about this tragedy earlier this week and I have not been able to think of much else since reading it.

But to end this roller coaster week on a positive note, I received the sweetest of birthday wishes from long time reader Meili:

Hope your joy today equals what you bring your readers every time you post one of your hilarious blog entries!!! I’m so glad you were born!

Meili, what a beautiful gift! I’ll take that over a dozen hot Krispy Kremes any day. But I think Charles Dickens said it best:

No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it to anyone else.

Thank you Meili, and all the friends I’ve made on the Interwebs, who make me feel so special and ease my burden daily with friendship, laughter, and love.

your older (and hopefully wiser) friend,

-Iris

Blowin’ the Stink Off

I’ve had a bad case of the winter blues the past few days. Not only has it been cold and rainy and gray here in North Georgia, but something about taking down the Christmas decorations and opening up those post-holiday credit card bills just sucks the will to live right outta me. 

Not only that, but my dear friend Patty just lost her mother to a 22-month battle with pancreatic cancer. Yesterday was the visitation and service and it was just heartbreaking. The service was beautiful though – a true celebration of a wonderful life well-lived. 

I haven’t been to many funerals in my life, kinehora (ya’ll, that is Yiddish for “knock on wood”), but going to one always scrambles my eggs for a few days, and not in a good way. Especially if it is an open casket. Lawd. That always shakes me to the core. Those standardized tests in high school that told me I would be a good mortician were just flat out wrong. 

Coming to grips with our mortality is just hard. Plain and simple. But a good funeral can be just the ticket to get you off your ass and get you on the road to a better life. 

My friend Patty handled her Mom’s passing with such dignity, grace, and love. It was truly an honor to witness. The four grandchildren all made special treasures to place in the casket with her – painted rocks and a signed baseball. Patty even did her Mom’s makeup and hair that morning, herself, because she knew exactly how her Mama would want to look. She was laid to rest in a gorgeous white nightie that she had chosen herself when she knew her time was near. I was just blown away by the love and loss of this great lady. 

It was a very emotionally draining day. But it made me want to come home and live the fullest life I can carve out for myself… to be a better wife, mom, daughter, sister, friend, neighbor, and parishioner. Made me feel grateful for the healthy life I’ve lived so far and made me want to take steps to ensure that I can stay healthy in the years to come. And it made me want to stop watching Bret Michael’s Rock of Love Bus on Sunday nights on VH1. Seeing 20 slutty silicone-augmented women fight over an aging has-been rock star is just not contributing one iota to my goals for leading a fuller life… even if the episode where that skank stuck a shot glass in her vajayjay and then was (surprisingly) not invited to continue on the tour was mildly entertaining in a “I-just-saw-a-train-wreck-and-can’t-avert-my-eyes-from-the-carnage-lying-next-to-the-tracks” kind of way. Ewwww. 

So, yeah. I need to make some changes ’round here if I’m going to break out of this winter funk and live a fuller life.

And that brings me to my tip for the day. It is Tuesday after all and you know I love to share simple advice for better living in my semi-regular “Just the Tip Tuesday” columns. 

My advice today is to go outside and “blow the stink off.” That is what one of my favorite Aunties likes to call the simple act of taking a walk. If you just go outside and take a walk, it is amazing how much better you will feel. It clears your head, gets your heart pumping, releases those feel-good endorphins that help you to keep on keeping-on. It’s all good. 

I just got back from blowing the stink off with Bucket Head and I tell you what, I feel like a million pesos… which is much better than I felt an hour ago. It’s a journey… we’ll work up to a million dollars. One stink at a time.

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